Page 1 of Waiting for Gilbert

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CORDELIA

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 14

ELVIS PRESLEY—BLUE CHRISTMAS

Squinting at the blowing snow through my windshield while sad and pathetic breakup tears drip down my snotty face isn’t how I pictured my day going. I was going to bestrong. I was going to be the strongest, toughest woman you’d ever seen.Psh!Shaun? Who’s he? Me? Engaged? Nope. It was like it never happened. A fling! A little run-o-the-mill date’em and drop’em. That’s how I roll. I’m made of steel, and I’m bad and tough and do what I want.

I make a popping noise with my lips—the one that drove my sister crazy when I was a kid. The hum of the engine and the warm air blasting through the vents are the only other sounds in the car as I tell these lies to myself in a hopeless attempt to stall another round of tears.

Let it be known that strong women cry. Sometimes a lot. But only because being alone is the worst. Not because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Shaun.

You know what? I’m glad Shaun called off the wedding. Someone needed to wake us up. I just wish I had thought of it first. We hadn’t even sent the save-the-dates. See? Let’s be thankful for that little blessing.

Breakups are yucky and sad even when it’s best to get out of a relationship that isn’t working. I know this.

I knew something was off between us. He was nice. But man, were we boring together.

I release a shuddering breath and veer left off of Highway Eighty-One. My next turn is nearby and I don’t want to miss it again, so I pull over onto the shoulder. I fish another tissue from my purse and blow my nose throughout another pep talk. “Shaun did the right thing.”Sniffle.“Shaun is not the bad guy.”Hiccup.“I am not the bad guy.”Blow.“It hurts now, but it will be better soon.”

Last week, after amehsort of date, he’d ducked his head once and then looked me straight in the eyes to deliver his breakup lines. “Cordy, you’re cute and fun, but I don’t see us having a family together. The longer we’re engaged, it just doesn’t feel right anymore. I know there’s someone perfect for you and it’s not me. It’s been a great two years.” With soul-wrenching pity in his eyes he shrugged because there was nothing else to say.

The message is loud and clear. I’m not the kind of person men want to have families with.

Was it because the music was too loud at dinner and Icould notstop bobbing my head and dipping my shoulders? The dance-party-for-one embarrassed him? Or maybe when I created an entire backstory for our server’s tattoo of an apple on her forearm. I’d concluded she was only waiting tables to save for tuition to transfer to Oxford and learn from the great scholars in England and her apple was a symbol of knowledge to propel her toward her quest. When I asked her—Shaun absolutely hated that I asked because it was “none of our business,” but I figure if you get a big ol’ tattoo on your arm, maybe you want to talk about it?—she giggled and raised her arm saying, “I just looove Edward Cullen, yeah?”

“Oooh.” I blinked. “Me too!”

Shaun sighed because he knew I was lying. So I kept talking to spite him. “Me too.Mmhmmm. It’scrazywhat some people say about Edward being controlling and abusive.”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m bringing you a free dessert.”

Yeah. It’s wrong to lie. If I’d known she was going to go nuts on me about it and act like we were new besties, I wouldn’t have said it. Ugghhh. No. Shaun didn’t dump me because of one boring date.

But he’s right. I’m twenty-eight years old. Maybe it’s time for a change. Maybe there’s a reason. A real, good solid reason that I’m not the kind of person men want to be with.

Fine, then! I vow not to be cute and fun. It’s my Christmas promise to myself. I shall not be cute. I shall not be fun.

Who’s Cordelia Jane? Not me. I have a serious name henceforth. I’m known across the country as plain CJ. I’mseriousand I’mfocused. Anddang it, I’m crying again.

I dig in the door pocket for a handful of brown paper napkins leftover from lunch.

Settling for Shaun was a mistake. He was never my Gilbert. I know this now.

My mom is obsessed withAnne of Green Gables. Hence my sister’s name, Diana, and my name, Cordelia. Who names their daughter Cordelia??? My mom. From one little conversation in the book when Anne says to Marilla, “I would love to be called Cordelia. It’s such a perfectly elegant name.”

Sure it is. But elegant names do not beget elegant futures.

Regardless, I grew up watching Jonathon Crombie as Gilbert Blythe patiently woo Anne Shirley, and I childishly built the same fantasy for myself. I decided to wait for that. I would wait for my Gilbert. Since my hair is as bright red as Anne’s, I’ve always identified with her on a personal level.

When did I lose that dream? I scoff at the foolishness of it. The perfect man isn’t going to come knocking on my door in the middle of the night. I must go find him!

I can’t sit here and wait for some dashing, pre-med student from Canada to find me. I must take direct action. I’ll create an online dating profile. Yes! Then I’ll have the means to sift through potential candidates before I get caught in their sweet faces and adoring smiles.

Despite his good looks, Shaun was not Gilbert. Besides our limited passion—maybe because of—we never fought. He just gave me a disappointed look on occasion. Shaun doesn’t even like to read!

I smack my forehead on the steering wheel.